


Computer, run Tertiary Beta

by Khlara



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khlara/pseuds/Khlara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Season 5.  Seven's curiosity about sex leads her to the one man she knows who won't mind teaching her, the Emergency Medical Hologram. Designation: The Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Computer, run Tertiary Beta

 At 0200 hours he walks into Holodeck 2. Their prearranged meeting. The Doctor stops short as the doors close behind him and lock. Security so that no one walks in on this... program.

The holodeck is barely decorated. The stark white and metal rebars of the holodeck base.

Seven is laying naked on the bed. Her skin almost glowing against the harsh light from above. She's let down her hair and it flows behind her in gentle waves. Her beauty stops his heart. Or it would if he had one. Not literally of course, only metaphorically. But it does stop him in his tracks.

"I feel over dressed for the occasion," he says, holding his hands in front of him.    

"Did I misunderstand this meeting? We did agree to have sexual intercourse, correct?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then simply remove your clothes and we will proceed."

That deflates the metaphorical butterflies in the Doctors stomach. He can see how Mr. Kim was intimated by her bluntness. But it will take more than that to scare him away.

Off goes the Starfleet jacket and boots, as he crosses the floor and moves to the bed. There's a lamp, for decoration. The gentle orange glow detracting from the bright white of the room. He'll have to delete it later.

Sitting at the edge of the bed and the butterflies come back. He feels like a virgin all over again. He's had sex before, of course; or, a close proximate. There had been his wife - his holo wife - but she hadn't been human. This will be his first human copulation. His lessons with Seven though are no longer. So he wonders why he still feels like the teacher in this situation. Yet first time with a human and he feels like the student. Teacher? Student?  If he lingers on the topic, it’ll confuse his programming. Best to think of himself as the student for now.

"You left the rest of your clothes on. Am I to understand you have doubts about our actions?"

"No. Certainly no doubts." And the Doctor doesn't but he quickly finds the virgin butterflies disappearing as he feels himself take on, once again, the role of teacher. "Humans prefer... _seduction_ , Seven."

"Irrelevant. It only produces romantic feelings which---"

She's thinking and if he lets her, this logic debate will continue all night as it has for the past month. His presses his lips to hers, and lets them linger before he pulls back. It's a terrible introduction but it has satisfactory results. She's quiet and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Teacher it is then.

"Humans prefer seduction - and if you interrupt me, I'll cancel this lesson, understood?" the Doctor says firmly. Seven nods and the Doctor continues running the back of his palm from her temple to jaw. Seven's eyes flutter closed and he smiles. "Precursors. Humans can't just jump into things. They often need excitement, a thrill. Seduction, foreplay, allows the body to prepare itself for what's to come. Seduction, romance, it all creates... bonds..." His hand is along her collar bone, letting a finger glide over it as he tries to ignore his programming, which is encouraging him to look at this as a medical exam. The bone is flawless - perhaps - no. Tonight the bone is flawless, just like her skin, her hair, her eyes. Seven, tonight, is flawless. And he wants to make sure she knows that.

"Doctor?" She's looking up at him now. He trailed off and she expects him to continue. His finger idle and repetitive on the bone. Perhaps he should take his own advice.

He pulls off the Starfleet regulation shirt and gently pushes on Seven's shoulders, leaning her back into the bed as his mouth goes to hers. One hand goes to her jaw, cupping it, while the other holds onto her shoulder. Then it's trailing down her arm until they're holding hands, Borg implants resting in hologram palm.

She's kissing him harder now, some instinct in her taking over as if she feels a need, something primal, very much like --

"No!" Her hair and eyes wild as she pulls back. The Doctor sits up immediately, pulling himself away.

"Seven?" He's confused, and inside he's scared. He doesn't want to hurt her. Perhaps this was a bad idea. He's a doctor; certainly this violates patient/doctor privilege.

"I will not assimilate you." She insists.  The Doctor feels himself relax. Force, need, instinct. It must be tied up somehow in her Borg programming, her own prime directive, so to speak. This may be harder than they thought.

"You won't assimilate me," his voice soft, his features gentle. "I'm... not exactly human, remember?"

Seven seems to come back to herself as she nods, looks around the holodeck reminding herself this isn't a Borg ship. "Proceed."

The Doctor looks back over her again and finds his arm wrapping around her waist. "Alright?" Slower, gentler, that should help.

"I am fine."

"If at any time it's not, tell me. This is supposed to be enjoyable for the both of us. It's not just for science."

"I understand."  But there's a tone to her voice that makes the Doctor unsure if she really does.

"This isn't about complying Seven. Sex isn't just for procreation. Otherwise Mr. Paris wouldn't try to be seducing half the quadrant. Sex is about two consenting adults enjoying each other and the keyword here is consent. You can revoke it at any time, and I'll listen. It means we can stop."

"I understand." The softness in her tone is what convinces him that she does and so with an arm around her waist, he leans back in, resuming their kiss but with softness and tenderness. Her hands go to his shoulders for leverage but don't stay long as they cup the back of his neck and then slowly, cautiously explore his upper back.

It feels nice. No, it feels _good_. To be touched, to honestly have someone touching him in this personal matter. To not have an interaction that's so clinical and detached. His hand slips down to her hip, rubs gentle circles on the bone. Her body pressing up, into his as her kisses turn needy, trying to drink him in. His other hand goes to her breast and finally their hands are exploring each other, feeling out soft spots, the sensitive places that make them cling to each other all the more.

"Doctor?" Her voice is a whisper and it takes him a moment to register that he needs to answer.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind removing your pants...?"

There's possibly more to that sentence but he doesn't wait for it as the rest of his clothes come off immediately. There's fumbling before he's finally back in bed with her, laying on his side next to her. They're back against each other and she's taken his length in her hands, making him moan. Touch, blessed touch!

"Are- are you all right?" Fear in her voice. She's never heard that sound he realizes, so he only nods and stutters out a yes before his hand flies to her softness. Towards the - well, in clinical terms, it's the clitoris and should elicit a reaction -- the moan, near yell of pleasure is much stronger than anticipated, but welcomed nonetheless.

"Wha-wha--?" Her eyes are wide again but she's moaning just as loud as his finger makes another revolution.

"It should be causing a pleasurable reaction--" he's unsure how his words come out in one piece.

"If you stop, I will kill you." Seven growls out, pressing herself into the finger. The Doctor smiles and continues his work. The hands of a surgeon and he tries to ignore that he was programmed that way. Instead he focuses on the hand, no, hands on his member. That move along his length, cup his balls, explore every inch of him, causing him to moan, causing him to be thankful that he programmed these subroutines years ago.

"When do we proceed from foreplay into sex?" Seven asks breathlessly after several minutes more of kissing and mutual hand jobs.

 _When you have to ask that question._ The Doctor wants to reply. Instead he slips a finger down to her entrance and then inside, briefly. Wet, soft and open enough, as best he can tell without a tricorder. He pulls back from her, looks at her. Seven's hair is a rat's nest of blonde curls. Her face, body, flush with sexual need. Her assimilation nodules on her other hand have protruded slightly - he'll have to keep an eye on that.

"Now, if you would like." Much different than with his wife.

"Now. Yes. Comply." And then a quickly added, "please."

Hesitance comes over him again. He's staring. It's rude to stare. But Seven is laying herself down fully on the bed and missionary it is then. No bedside table. No condom. He examined them both earlier that day. Seven for both maintenance and human issues, then ran a complete diagnostic on himself. They were clean. And he very much doubted (scientifically knew) that she wouldn’t be getting pregnant from this encounter. Perhaps the one bright side to his "condition".

His fingers go back to her entrance. One, two, three. Yes, she’s fully prepared. Her hips bucking into his hand only encourage him. Out come his fingers and he tastes them. Salty, copper tinged - his mind already trying to examine. He quiets his mind as he takes his own length in hand now and guided it towards her entrance. Hips take over as his hands go back to her shoulders. "All right?" that definitely was stuttered. The pleasure is... oh he had forgotten humans ran this hot.

"Fine. I. Am. Fine." Her legs wrap around him, as do her arms. She’s fighting for control just as he is. "And- and now?"

Now, instinct. Or in his case, programming. He begins to thrust into her. Slowly, but as her moans grow, so does his pace. She rocks against him. He wets a finger, slips it down and rubs once again at her clit, at that button. The moans grow louder, their pace faster and then frantic. Moans and groans cut off by wild kisses until finally there’s yelling - Seven crying out as her hands dig into the Doctor's shoulders. He feels her quivering against him, Gods... He releases himself into her, feels his mind short out.

"Doctor?" It’s Seven. What had... He is lying next to her, no longer on top. There’s a terrible pain in his right shoulder. He looks at her. Bitten red lips, Borg assimilation implant in her hand quivering, her body flushed with exertion and pleasure.

"Are you all right, Seven?" It’s in his nature to ask.

"I am fine. Though at my climax my Borg assimilation nodules tried to assimilate you."

"I'll have to look into their connections next time I have a chance." The Doctor rolls onto his back. The lights are still too bright. They would need to dim them next time.

"And you? Was it what you were wanting?" she asks softly.

The experience was indescribable. Human touch. The feel of being needed for more than his programming. He turns to look at her, finds himself wrapping Seven into his arms.

"It was... perfect. But you Seven, how did you find the experience?"

She is quiet as she lays against him, her head against his chest, no sound of a heartbeat.

"It was... adequate."

"Adequate?" He was a hologram. She was Borg. Others would consider that high praise--

"Excellent." She adds, much, much softer. The sound of a tiny yawn escapes from her. Borg did not sleep, but there was something... comforting with his arms around her like this. The Doctor is already preoccupied with a conundrum much worse. Something he isn't sure could be quite happening.

He is falling in love with Seven of Nine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more to this. If you want to see the insanity unfold, catch me on tumblr as: khlara. Or toss a comment/kudos to let me know if this should keep happening.


End file.
